


I'll make the world safe and sound for you

by adotham (Bates)



Series: The moment always vanishing. [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Artist John, Ex Lovers, F/M, Letter, M/M, Mentions of Pregnancy, Modern AU, University AU, mentions of children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/adotham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>modern lams au</b> // loosely inspired by a prompt from <a href="http://confusedjimmy.tumblr.com/post/139500308575/send-me-a-pairing-a-number">this list</a>. [“we can’t return to those times anymore”]</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll make the world safe and sound for you

We haven’t been in touch, John. Somewhere along the way from university to finding a job and moving out on our own, we got out of touch. In all honesty, I miss who we used to be, I miss that ratty old apartment where you played the guitar and painted, listened to my rambling about papers and running out of ink. I tried to remember all the times I made you run out to get me more ink for the typewriter, but god that happened so often. _Did I ever apologize?_

We heard what happened to Martha. I’m so sorry John. Even if it’s been a couple of months now, I feel like I should apologize. We would have flown out for the funeral, but Eliza was in the hospital and I couldn’t dare leave her, I hope you understand. We did send you a card, did you get it? You probably got so many it got lost in the masses, I’d understand.

 

If I am honest, John, so much has been happening in both of our lives and I miss having someone to share it with. _Scratch that,_ John, I miss sharing my life with you like we did.

I miss the endless nights talking while working on our papers and yelling at each other because whatever we were working on was the devil in disguise. (Let us be real, it was. I’m still not over that slavery paper they made me write.) Do you remember how much coffee we went through? I’m still trying to kick the habit. Eliza is very adamant about the fact that it _isn’t_ working. I’m afraid I have to agree.

Life has changed since we packed up and changed paths…since we broke up. Why did we? Honestly, why did we break up? It’s not like we couldn’t make this work. First of all, I married. _I did it John, I married her._

Elizabeth (though never call her Elizabeth to her face, she’ll _end_ you) Schuyler. She’s beautiful John. Dark eyes, long wavy hair. It’s not even the best of her. When you meet her, you’ll realize. Her kindness is perhaps the most beautiful thing about her. She’s so pure in all of her actions, you’ll never catch her do something for herself. Even with the baby coming possibly too soon, she tried to get me to catch that plane.

She’s like you, in many ways. Seeing a picture of our university days reminded me of that. Reminded me of the moment I took it. It’s still my favorite one of you. You’re playing the guitar one early morning. I believe it was only eight am and you woke me up. I’ll add a copy of my copy to the letter, along with something else. Maybe you’ll remember.

 

Another thing, the reason I decided to write to you, John. I am a father now. Can you imagine? Hungover Alexander who always was so adamant about never becoming a father? The Alexander who was so afraid of making the same mistake my father did?

Well, he got told off rather rudely. Because I am a father now. A father to six-month-old Philip Hamilton with his toothless smiles and the beginning of an actual giggle. He’s too adorable to be a son of mine, but then again he does take after his mother. He has her smile, her temperament, but my eyes. _He’s my son._ Can you imagine? Even after six months of running last minute groceries, changing diapers and helping with feedings, I still can’t.

(Eliza refuses to use a bottle for him as long as he still accepts her nipple and gets enough milk.  I would say that I don’t know why you need to know, but I do. Because you always were so adamant about doing things the ecological and natural way. Perhaps it’ll make you smile, knowing that I found someone who cares as much for it. I seem to have a type, don’t I? It’s people like you.)

I added a picture Eliza took of us a couple of weeks ago. There were so many others I could add, but this one is the one I cherish most. I don’t even know why. _Look at my son._

 

 

Another thing, while I’m still writing the Great Update on what has been going on; I am going into politics. _I can just see you roll your eyes John Laurens don’t you dare_. I know I’ve been saying that since we literally ran into each other at the library. This time I mean it.

Having Philip gave me something to want to protect. Something to fight for. We were raised into a messed up environment, we were taught that what you and I had was _wrong_. Anything but being in love with a person of the opposite (not even another gender – no we were never taught about the spectrum) gender and going to church was almost wrong. I don’t want that for him.

I want Philip to grow up and know that it’s okay to rebel, that it’s okay to fall in love with people who are of his gender or another. I want him to know that he’s accepted, no matter who he is, who he dates or how he behaves. Do you remember our years? Climbing to the roof and sitting there smoking and watching the stars, stealing kisses? It was the only place we were completely safe outside of our apartment. He _will_ be safe everywhere or my name is not Alexander Hamilton.

 

John, how are _you_ doing? What is going on in your life? How is Frances? She must be so big now. She’ll be three soon, right? You and Martha had her soon after you moved out. Did you fulfill your dreams? Did you get your chance to illustrate books?

I hope you know that every time I pick up a book for Philip, I turn to the first page and hope to see your name there. ‘ _With illustrations by John Laurens’_. Or even ‘ _written and illustrated by John_ Laurens’. I’ve always thought you had a gift for writing (and rescuing my messed up papers). It would immediately become my favorite book to read to him.

 

Please, tell me about your life, your hopes and dreams. I hope you are safe and happy, that your daughter is thriving. I wish you strength if she isn’t and hope. Hope for better days, more stable days.

Know that you are always welcome at our house, if you need a shoulder to cry on, someone to look after Frances. We may be over but our friendship isn’t. Up until a few months ago, I knew you knew that, now I am unsure.

Forever yours,

Your Ham.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the pictures; [baby](http://abseadesires.tumblr.com/post/45452790158) & [guitar](http://stigmmata.tumblr.com/post/136314677069/libersoul-wildstag-untitled-by-ff%C3%AEon-on).


End file.
